


Lesbians in the Library

by four_tea_two



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 11:09:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1385419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/four_tea_two/pseuds/four_tea_two
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, alternately, "Suddenly Samantha." Sam gets hit by a witch's curse, and in the morning, Dean rolls over to discover something much curvier than he was expecting. They go to Charlie for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lesbians in the Library

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old one- I generally steer clear of binary genderswap stuff now, but I was scrolling through old tumblr fic and I couldn't resist posting this. Original post: http://queenoflocusts.tumblr.com/post/51663477205

It’s early in the morning after a hunt and the sun is just peeking over the horizon.

Dean rolls over in bed and gravitates toward the warm, soft skin next to him. He reaches out, feeling the curve of a hip, the dip of a waist, the soft skin underneath a breast. Dean sighs, and then his eyes flick open.

"Dean, what the  _fuck!_ " Sam launches out of bed, dragging the bed sheets with him and landing spread-eagle on the floor. But Sam’s voice is a register higher than normal, and when he looks down at his chest he sees that he isn’t, well, a he.

Dean is sitting up stock-still in bed. The brothers lock eyes, and for a moment they’re silent. Until-

"Sam, you have  _smoking_  tits.”

"Ew, ew,  _ew_. Just throw me a shirt, Jesus Christ. We are never sharing a bed ever again.”

 

***

 

It’s determined that “Suddenly Samantha” is the result of a witch’s hex that took a night to incubate. Normally, reversing the spell would be as easy as finding the witch and holding her hostage until she undid what ever she’d cast. Unfortunately, the witch in question is currently burnt to a crisp and scattered across the countryside, thanks to Dean.

"That bitch," Dean mutters, and Sam glares at him from across the room. 

"You know that’s really offensive?" Sam huffs, pushing some hair behind her ear. That’s one thing the witch’s hex hadn’t changed- Sam’s hair was still shoulder-length- and it had caused Dean no small amount of amusement. 

"What, ‘bitch’? Your politically correct, Stanford-educated ass never had a problem with it before."

"Well, now I’ve got Stanford-educated tits to boot, so maybe lay off the misogynistic slurs for a minute?"

"Well, I guess we know it’s somebody’s time of the month." Dean chuckles, and Sam’s face goes pale.

"Dean." 

"What? Oh my god, don’t even-"

"Dean, I think-"

"I am not prepared to deal with this. We’re going to Charlie’s."

 

***

 

Charlie answers the door with bedhead, wrapped in a fluffy robe printed like a Hogwarts uniform. 

"The brothers Winchester? It’s 7 A.M. on a Sunday, what’s- " Charlie blinks. "Oh." Charlie blinks again, and does a double take.

"Sam, is that-?"

"Yeah, uh, about that-"

"Come on in. I need a cup of coffee before I can process this."

Ten minutes later Sam and Dean are sitting awkwardly on the couch, Charlie sitting opposite, her eyes wide. Sam’s clothes dwarf her smaller-than-usual frame, even the men’s undershirt she’s wearing as a top is huge. Pants had been foregone in favor of a once too-small pair of boxers, boxers that were barely staying up on Sam’s hips.

"This is completely surreal. I mean, wow, I read a fanfiction like this once, but-" Charlie shook her head. "What happened?"

"Witch’s hex," Dean replied, "Normally we’d find the bitch-" Sam glares, and Dean clears his throat- " _witch_  who cast it, but that’s not so easy.”

"Let me guess, you fried her."

"Pretty much. And now Sam is stuck with some admittedly fantastic tits-" Sam punches Dean in the arm and it’s as strong as ever- "and we don’t know how to change him back."

"Is being a woman really that bad?" Charlie asks, and Sam splutters in his coffee. "I mean, there are worse things. Permanently crippled, stuck in a coma, turned into a frog for chrissakes. I’ve been a woman for nearly thirty years now and I’m not dead yet. Looks like you got off pretty easy."

Sam looks a little guilty. “There’s nothing wrong with being a woman, but, uh, I’d like to be back to normal. I still feel like a guy, I think. And I still like chicks- not that you can’t be a girl and like chicks, I mean- I’m just digging myself a deeper hole here, aren’t I?”

Charlie nods. “I get it, I do. But why come to me?”

"Samantha over here’s been having some lady problems, if you know what I mean, and I think you’re one of the only women we could think to track down."

"I’m the only woman you still have a cordial relationship with?"

"Well, there’s Sherriff Mills, but I’m not sure how kindly she’d take to us after-"

"Say no more. Sam, come with me. We’re gonna make a woman out of you."

 

***

 

A half hour later, Sam emerges from the bathroom uncertainly. Sam still looks like, well, Sam, but girlier- fuller lips, softer bone structure, a little shorter, a lot curvier. She’s dressed in whatever they could find in Charlie’s wardrobe that would fit Sam’s still unusually tall frame. This means a faded pair of cutoff jeans, an oversized Mickey Mouse t-shirt and a bright pink bra, the straps of which Sam can’t stop fiddling with.

"Thanks, Charlie," Sam says, and she means it. Charlie smiles, and Sam swears she catches her blushing a little. Weird.

Dean gets off the couch and gives Sam a once-over. “Not bad,” he shrugs, and Sam rolls her eyes.

"I’m your fucking brother and you still look at me like I’m a piece of meat. God, this is so fucked up."

"How else do you expect me to deal with this?" Dean sits back down on the couch and puts his face in his hands. "I’m sorry, Sam, but this is weird, even for us."

"So, do we have a plan?" Charlie seems much too pleased about this whole turn of events, practically squealing as she made Sam try on clothes. 

"Charlie, if you’re up for it, you can head back to the bunker with us. An extra head on research would be great, plus you can help Sam figure out his- her- whatever- body, paint each other’s nails, you know. Girl stuff."

This time, Sam and Charlie both glare. 

 

***

 

The research drags on for days. Meanwhile, Sam is doing a pretty good job at being a woman. Charlie had bought her new clothes, got her fitted for bras, taught her what shampoo to use when her hair became unexpectedly frizzy and dry. Dean still did a double take whenever he walked into the library and saw Sam curled up with some huge tome, her smaller, girlish hands flipping the pages. But even Dean had started to adjust, no longer stumbling over pronouns or making borderline misogynistic comments.

Life was, somehow, getting back to normal.

Charlie and Sam had become closer, bonding over Dean’s flustered frustration; Sam’s disastrous, half-hearted attempt at makeup (“I swear, I have so much appreciation for women right now”); their respective nerdy pursuits and love of literature.

"I always wanted a sister," Sam confesses, and Charlie smiles. 

Sam doesn’t even notice how Charlie blushes and averts her eyes when Sam is changing in the same room, or how she practically spits up her drink when Sam starts confusedly fondling her own breasts. Charlie had always been able to appreciate the aesthetics of the Winchesters as men, but with Sam currently girl-ified it was all the more apparent. Sam’s skin, her hands, her awkward gait-

Charlie has to drink a glass of cold water to calm herself down. Okay, so she’s attracted to Sam Winchester, who is a guy but is also technically not a guy. Weirder things have happened to her, but not many. 

Charlie attempts to rationally assess the situation: Sam still likes girls. That’s a plus. Sam will probably stop actually being a girl sometime in the near future. That’s, well, not a plus. Sam sees Charlie as a sister. Also not a plus. Charlie sighs. She might as well face the situation head-on. 

That night in the library, books stacked high in front of the two girls and Dean out getting pizza somewhere, Charlie clears her throat and speaks.

"You know, you’re pretty good looking as a girl. I think it’s actually an improvement."

Sam chuckles, and looks up. “You sound like Dean,” and no, that is not what Charlie was going for at all.

"No, I really mean it! Like, if I saw you around, I would totally hit that. I mean-" Charlie blushes. "Sorry, never mind. Pretend I said nothing." There’s a beat, and Sam grins.

Sam closes the book in front of her. "So you’re being serious?"

Charlie smiles and shrugs.  "Yeah, what can I say?" Her voice is a little higher than it probably should be.

Sam stands and steps around the table to where Charlie is sitting, leaning over her. Charlie breathes in quickly.

"Wait, is this really happening?"

Before she can continue, there are soft, warm lips on hers, and Charlie’s mind is kind of freaking out. She brings her hands up tentatively to Sam’s shoulders and is rewarded with a soft breathy sound from Sam’s throat. Okay, so Sam is really into this. That’s good. That’s really good. Charlie leans into the kiss-

"Lesbians. In the library."  Sam and Charlie break apart, whipping their heads around to where Dean stands in the doorway, a bag of burgers in each hand. "I’ll just leave these here then," Dean says, placing one of the bags on the table and backing out. "You two, uh, be safe, I guess. God, this is so weird."

When Dean has finally left the room, Charlie turns to smile shyly at Sam, but there are lips on hers within a second and then Charlie isn’t quite thinking rationally anymore. 


End file.
